The Flower of Mirkwood
by Godlike-Machine
Summary: Story of the life of Elemmírë, an elven girl from Mirkwood.  Rated T to be safe.
1. Chapter 1

_Even though through mortal eyes the years pass quickly, they do not in the eyes of a race that has long lived in Middle-Earth. The beautiful creatures known as elves are those old and noble people, who though respect all the living, tend to seclude from everything else. The wisdom of mortals around them does not surpass theirs, for they have long walked the green fields of Arda. Even so, they all grow from children, learning their way through their long, immortal lives. One elven girl, of the name _Elemmírë _shall show you the way through her life._

_**Chapter 1.**_

The wind blew softly as the woods around the village made their voices known. Every tree had life and it was spring. Everything was starting to grow again after a hard winter. The trees were basking in the sunlight, making it impossible for the rays to penetrate through the thick mossy leaves. It was both the blessing and the curse of Mirkwood.

The trees brought safety to the elves of the woods but suffocated them from the light. There was clearings were you could see the beautiful colors and bask in the warmth but it was nothing naught it was supposed to be. Still the greenness and safety, even though of the dark creatures lurking in the darker areas, brought peace to Eärwen.

She had lived on Arda for three thousand years and now was bearing her second child. Her dark long hair flowed down her back as her green eyes tried to read over the thin, wavering text. Her delicate fingers brushed over the rough, almost wrinkly pages few times before she had to close the book and place it down to the stone bench she was sitting on. Her thoughts were weary and her mind was not at peace.

Her son, Tathar, was out, on and about. The boy had grown fast from the small bundle that Eärwen had seen first. Now the boy was not looking older than a mortal man in his teens, but with more grace than one will never gain. Eärwen was worried. Tathar wanted nothing more than to be as his father is. The great and most appreciated warrior of Thranduil the king. Her heart ached with the knowledge of having her mate away on dangerous tasks and possible warfare, but to have her son on the same ways too.

The hand that had been trailing over the book quickly wandered to the pregnant stomach that was covered with a light dress. Hantadhiel would not dare to cross the strongest and purest wish of his son and wished him to gain the happiness in life, with any possession or profession he wished. She wished them to feel free, not like they were bound to live as their parents wished. Eärwen smiled softly as she felt a soft kick through her skin. Yes, there was her second child. Her daughter.

Elemmírë was the name they had chosen for her. Elemmírë, their own flower. Flower that they had seen open its leaves to the sun on the very day they had heard of the pregnancy. It was the day of joy they had felt only once before with Imrathon and maybe never to feel again. With Tathar and Elemmírë on her thoughts, Eärwen felt joyous and relieved.

It was not easy to raise an elfling, especially when Mirkwood had received the crown prince. It had been the year of celebration with no sorrow. Legolas Thranduilon had been born, the son who would inherit the crown of Mirkwood and become the king of the elves there. When Eärwen had heard of the joyous news she had been thrilled. King Thranduil and his queen, Aredhel wished for every child of his son's age to join the parties and proceed to form a friendship with the child. For three hundred years Eärwen had had the opportunity to follow as her son, with ease formed a true friendship with the prince who had grown in to the ellon he should be.

Even though he was young, Legolas had the strong figure of his father, Thranduil. Hantadhiel was more than proud to have that young ellon the king someday, surely after he calmed down from his teenaged wild years. Those were yet to come with Tathar, much to her and Galdor's dismay.

Still with the thoughts of the next king and the thought of her son, Eärwen thought more and more of her daughter. Elemmírë would be the most beautiful elleth to step in the world of Arda. At least so Eärwen wanted it to be.


	2. Chapter 2

I decided to name the characters again and not to get into the name meanings at all. I don't want to make stupid mistakes about them. The story takes place about three hundred years after Legolas' birth and I must apologize for not having a clue of Elven growth (how long it takes for them to grow to adulthood) so every bit of advice will be taken. I'm going to continue the story by jumping a bit and hopefully I'm not confusing anyone. And I'd like some advice about the hair color of Mirkwood elves. I've been thinking that they'd probably have darker hair and that the elves of Mirkwood shall have that. Well excluding Thranduil and Legolas.

_Even though through mortal eyes the years pass quickly, they do not in the eyes of a race that has long lived in Middle-Earth. The beautiful creatures known as elves are those old and noble people, who though respect all the living, tend to seclude from everything else. The wisdom of mortals around them does not surpass theirs, for they have long walked the green fields of Arda. Even so, they all grow from children, learning their way through their long, immortal lives. One elven girl, of the name Elemmírë shall show you the way through her life._

_**Chapter 2**_

Tathar peaked from behind the corner before he quickly turned back with a sharp look. This wasn't the way he wanted to spend the day of his little sisters first day of life. He had promised to fetch some fresh fruits for his mother, Eärwen but it wasn't as easy as he wished for it to be. His eyes found the ever innocent ones of the Crown Prince.

"Because of you I dare not enter the market for weeks!" Tathar exclaimed in hushed tones while Legolas just smiled to himself. Few days ago they had been practicing on their archery just outside the village. Neither of them cared for checking the background of their target. Just one disoriented arrow that may have hit the farmer to the rear was enough for making them run.

"Do not blame me for something I didn't do, Tathar." Legolas took few steps and peaked around the corner as well. They weren't sure if the farmer knew that it was they who had hit him but they still were cautious. "It was your arrow that hit him. I tend to keep hitting the target."

Just of that moment Tathar wished to flick the head of his friend but decided against it. He then took a deep breath and closed his eyes. His mother would not be impressed with him if he came running home, without the supplies he promised to retrieve. Legolas on the other hand had no deeds to fulfill that day and easily leaned against the tree near them. "I do not find any reason for not going to buy the fruits." Legolas sighed and then pushed from the tree and took few steps towards the market. "They are for your _naneth_ and then you'd be able to see your sister."

"You are right…" Tathar had to admit and he squeezed the small satchel to his hands before turning towards the buzzing square. Legolas furrowed his brow before a small chuckle escaped his lips. Both of them wished to be brave warriors someday, but now Tathar feared of going to the market place and buying fruits. In addition, the nervous body language spoke strongly about him doing something unappreciated. The blonde elf shook his head and swiftly walked to his friend and pried the satchel from him. "I'll buy them for you if you're so afraid, dear friend"

"Thank you Legolas. Do not take this wrong but I know my naneth would be disappointed with me if the old farmer would bring be home by carrying me from my neck." Tathar sighed peacefully and then halted when Legolas proceeded to walk to the stall that was kept by the old farmer. His eyes inspected the situation carefully, only to be welcomed by the sight of the man quickly rounding from around the wooden structure towards the prince. Tathar had to roll his eyes at the sight; of course the son of Thranduil would be welcomed so.

In just few minutes Legolas returned with a pouch of the freshest apples and a small box of raspberries. He threw the satchel back to Tathar who easily caught it. Tathar then took the apples before his eyes landed on the raspberries. "What did you buy those berries for?"

The two turned to walk towards Tathar's home. Legolas smiled as his eyes gazed around the trees and people that passed them, during their daily chores. The soft scent of pastries made by the village baker enveloped them and almost made Legolas forget the question. After the delivery of the baked goods was passed, Legolas turned back to Tathar. "I'd consider it as a gift to your mother. I do wish to see your child sister" Legolas did speak the truth. He didn't have nor would possibly ever have any siblings. He wished to see the small elfling by his own eyes.

"And you are welcome Legolas. I think naneth would be honored to see you greeting the small bundle" Tathar laughed and strolled forward. The village was built around one of the largest clearings in the middle of the forest. The forest around brought great safety and the small cottages and larger buildings were built by wood. The whole village was built, somewhat uphill. The road leaded to the palace which held the area as the rest of the village. Now the two strolled down the road towards the part where most of the homes were.

Without really looking around Tathar found his home and then swiftly moved in. After doing so he waited for his friend to enter before making their presence known. Galdor walked out from the room with a wide smile on his face and walked to his son. He placed his strong palm to Tathar's shoulder and squeezed it before bowing to Legolas.

Legolas answered the bow before his eyes went to the door that Galdor just exited. The older elf smiled still before turning back to the door. "Tathar, Legolas, come and I shall show you my beautiful daughter." The soldier said softly with pride. The three walked towards the door, Galdor pushing Tathar in first.

What Tathar first saw was his mother lay on the bed with a small bundle in her arms. Tathar first froze but then after the soft nudge from his father stepped towards the bed. He placed the pouch filled with apples to the edge of the bed before sitting down to the chair next to it. His mouth felt dry as his eyes travelled from the tearstained face of his smiling mother down to the softly breathing figure, wrapped to blankets.

Legolas stepped forward and peered with Galdor over the shoulders of Tathar. What the three saw was enough to melt the hearts of coldest men. A small pair of rich green eyes studied each face with interest as few dark short strands of hair covered the head. The chubby cheeks were red and an involuntary yawn made the small child flinch. The eyes, still not perfectly opened closed before opening up again.

"Do you wish to hold him?" Eärwen carefully offered to Tathar who silently nodded. Eärwen placed her to his arms and Tathar had to swallow in amazement. The small child felt so fragile in his arms that if he would move he could easily break it. This was her, his little sister. Elemmírë.

As of reading his thoughts, Elemmírë opened her eyes to greet Tathar's. The two stared at each other for a long time before Elemmírë hiccupped. After doing so she closed her eyes before letting her voice be known. Galdor laughed with joy and patted Tathar's shoulder. "What a fine set of lungs."

Legolas, who had been silently inspecting the situation, turned to Eärwen with a bow. Eärwen smiled brightly and attempted to bow from her seat, but only managed to incline her head. Legolas smiled before placing the small box of raspberries to the small end table. "I know it is not much, but I wished to bring you something. Congratulations on the birth of your daughter, she is a beauty."

"Thank you so much my lord." Eärwen glanced quickly at Tathar and Elemmírë before turning back to Legolas. Legolas bowed again before shaking his head. "Oh, do not call me that. I am your son's friend and have seen less of the world than you my lady."

"As you wish Legolas" Eärwen smiled before looking down at her lap. Tathar clumsily stood, still holding the crying Elemmírë. "What do I do now naneth?" Tathar then placed Elemmírë to his chest and tried to sway calmly. After few sways Elemmírë's cries quieted down and Tathar sighed. Eärwen smiled warmly at Tathar who smiled in victory before turning to Legolas. "Look at him Elemmírë; he is the prince of Mirkwood, your future king"

Elemmírë opened her eyes again and looked at Legolas. She just stared at him for a while before her eyes began to droop. After few minutes, she already was in deep sleep. Tathar placed her back to the waiting arms of Eärwen before placing a gentle kiss to his mother's cheek. Galdor walked over and placed his hands to the shoulders of the ellons before pushing them towards the door. "Both ladies need their rest, and I do have something to talk with you."

When they reached the yard Galdor closed the door. The sun had started to set and it was almost out of sight behind the tall trees. Galdor let his eyes follow a small bee that flew past him before turning to the boys. "I heard you were practicing your archery just few days ago near the farm of Angrod."

Legolas glanced sharply at Tathar who tensed. They both remained silent before Tathar nodded. "Yes we did Adar." Both of them waited for a long rant that demanded them to think before doing and that sorts but Galdor just laughed with tears in his eyes. Legolas' eyes widened and Tathar uncomfortably shifted his weight from his other leg to another. "I do not plan on scolding you but next time, do train on the archery fields."

"Yes adar." Tathar smiled and then they both watched as the tall and lean elf disappeared back inside. The best friends stood silently by the door. The air around them had grown chillier during the few moments they had spent inside. Tathar sighed before turning to Legolas who was silently staring at the ground. "For the record dear friend, I will say it was you who shot at Angrod"


	3. Author's note

Hello!

I'm sorry to say but i have lost all of my inspiration and muse about writing the story through. I have tried to write more several times but failed horribly. The idea doesn't really seem proper to me anymore and it's hard for even trying to get through with it. I've been planning on deleting the story but if one of you is willing on adopting the story, I'd be delighted.

In my hands the story would probably just be boring and colorless, lacking a proper plot. Still thank you for reviews and the story alerts! So the story is up for adoption so to speak and I wish that you understand the reason for me wanting to stop writing it.


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